Of Uncertainties and Answered Prayers
by arctique48
Summary: He knows what he wants and she knows what she thinks but it’s getting progressively more difficult to identify how they feel. LJ.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: Hogwarts etc belongs to JKR**

**AN:** Behold! Prologue. It is vastly unexciting but I rather enjoyed writing it and as with most things I enjoy writing I decided to post it. Do with it what you will.

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**Prologue **

-

She's never been sure what exactly it is about him.

The way he messes up his god-awful hair all the time. The way he grins and laughs and jokes at other people's _tears_. The way he makes her look like a fool or the way the other girls eye her, green with envy for having something _she doesn't even want_.

She looks at him sometimes and just shakes her head, because what can she do? He doesn't listen because it's never what he wants to hear. He doesn't behave because what's in it for him? He doesn't shut up and leave her alone because he doesn't _want_ to, and heaven forbid James Potter should do anything against his will.

She's not sure what exactly it is about him but sometimes he makes her lose the very will to live, sometimes he makes her cry and scream and bawl obscenities in front of people who look up to and respect her. Sometimes he makes her lose even the deepest concentration and she hates him!

For so many reasons she _cannot_ stand him.

And if that weren't enough in itself it would appear that he is _genuinely_ as attached to her as he is to his own bloody _reflection_.

And that thought sickens her.

-

It's been six years and he's still not sure where he stands with her.

Well, he is. But with every fibre of his being he wishes it were different.

He wishes she'd look past the him he'd been for five of those years, he wishes she'd come round the corner just in time to see him doing something great, something beneficial to mankind and heroic and _not_ him hexing Snape. He wishes there'd be a possibility for her, _just once_, to see the good side of him. But fate is cruel and life's a bitch and every time there's the glimmering hope of a possibility it all goes wrong.

He looks at her sometimes and just wants to get down on his knees and cry, because what more can he do? She doesn't listen because she thinks she knows what she's going to hear. She doesn't watch because she thinks she's seen it all before. She doesn't take him seriously because he spent five years never giving her the chance and now he's _genuinely_ genuine she couldn't give a damn. And she just _won't _understand. Because for some reason she seems to feel if she opens up to him he'll rip her apart from the inside out.

He knows exactly where he stands with her and sometimes it makes him lose the very will to live, sometimes it makes him kick and scream and _lose quidditch matches_. Sometimes it makes him say things he doesn't mean and make all even worse. Sometimes it makes him promise to change.

Because he thinks he loves her.

And he knows she can't stand him.

And that's almost enough to break his pathetic little-boy heart.

He wants more than anything for things to be different.

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**If you've read it, please review it.**


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Hogwarts etc belongs to JKR.**

**AN:** Eek. I changed my mind again. Thankfully it didn't delete everything (i messed up with the chapter altering thing), but i still needed to repost this. I've got a plot again. Rejoice. So Ch3 is gone for good, though it may make a cameo appearance later, you never know. Anyway. Onwards...

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**Year 1**

-

The letter had filled her with joy, fear and trepidation all in one.

She'd jumped and grinned and hugged her friends and parents, so excited and so _ready _for this great leap forward (a great leap forward into a whole new world - it shouldn't even be possible). She'd told her sister and watched the wonder well up in her eyes, watched the amazement crackle and burn before turning violently against her (her parents had said it was Petunia's _hormones_ playing up, and it may be best to let her be until the morning). She'd listened to her parents arguing softly behind locked door, worried for their daughter. She'd heard them agree to send a letter and watched the following morning as they read the reply, amazement giving way to acceptance and pride.

But that night, that night before she went to meet someone to welcome her into this strange new world, that night before she went into a small pub with a strange name and bought _spell books _and _cauldrons_, that night she'd cried. Because it was beginning to sink in that she wouldn't be coming home to see her parents every night. She wouldn't hear to her sister's scandalous tales of boys and parties over dinner while her dad tried to pretend he wasn't listening. She wouldn't play netball in the park with her friends from school because she'd be somewhere else. Somewhere with mountains and forests and rivers and castles and _magic_ but no Jane and Lisa. Would she even have friends at all? Would the people with names like Albus and Minerva and Rubeus think she was strange because she was named after a plant? Would that refuse to play with her because she didn't know what Gringotts was? She'd cried herself to sleep that night in fear that it wouldn't be as bright and beautiful as she wanted it to be, fear that she wouldn't fit in in this place she longed so much to belong.

The sun rose and the birds sang and she boarded a train with her parents into London, that daunting grey city with its pigeons and commuters and tall, tall, tall buildings. She'd not liked it much before, preferring the small town from which she came. London was big and loud and smelled really bad.

They'd walked and walked for what seemed like an age, her daddy had told her the name of the very famous road (Charing Cross Road, after an ancient cross placed by a king of old). It all looked the same to her and she was more scared than ever that she'd get lost in this magical world with no one there to guide her.

They walked and walked and suddenly they stopped. Her dad was looking from his parchment and ink map to the dirty grey wall, he'd frowned and given the map to Lily, asking her what she could see on that wall. And she'd told him she saw a door and a dirty grey sign saying 'Leakey Cauldron'. He had shook his head in amazement and perhaps it was in that moment, as the little girl pulled her parents through a seemingly solid brick wall, that they began to accept that they may be losing her to something greater. The thought had made her father sad.

-

His letter had been a day late.

He'd gone to bed that night in floods of tears, kicking, screaming and sobbing, demanding his parents promised he wasn't a squib. They'd promised but he'd been _so afraid_, Because Hogwarts was his _destiny_ and he couldn't be separated from it! He needed to go there to make friends and learn magic and grow up to fight the bad guys like his father did. Even at eleven he wanted to save the world. He wanted to never wake up to the sound of his mum crying in fear again. He wanted to make things better and how could that happen _if they didn't let him into Hogwarts?_

But the next day, before the sun was even up, his parents came in with breakfast and a _letter_, carried in the claws of what could only be a Hogwarts owl.

James had doubted it was possible to be any happier.

That very day his parents had let him take his first unaccompanied Floo ride (he was a big boy now, soon to be a real wizard with a _wand_), he'd landed on the hearth of the Leaky Cauldron with a cough and a splutter and a face-full of shattered glass as his head slammed against the tiles. Nose bleeding he'd stood up and grinned at the whole pub while his mother fixed his glassed (so happy in the knowledge that one day soon he'd be able to fix them himself).

They'd trekked through the people, coming to a halt at the solid wall with its dustbins and secrets, his father unveiling the portal into that was perhaps his favourite place on the planet. He had always loved Diagon Alley.

He'd begged and pleaded to go and buy his wand first but his mother insisted they went to Gringotts. He'd huffed and sulked because he'd been _there_ before, but he was grinning again in the little cart plunging down into the earth, chatting away to the goblin leading them and whooping with every gut-wrenching turn the rickety track threw them round.

His family vault was huge and gleaming with gold and other precious items, but he paid no heed to it, he'd seen it all before and right now not all the fortune in the world could draw his mind away from _magic_.

He talked incessantly all the way to Ollivander's wand shop and would have continued were it not for the buzz that ran through his entire _being_ as the stepped through the doorway. He felt his very blood bubble and sparkle and _sing_ in sheer joy of being in the presence of such pure magic. He'd been struck speechless.

The old man was creepy in a mystifying and undoubtedly cool kind of way and he spoke directly to him in whisper soft, magic laden tones. James could not think of a word to say in response.

His parents had watched with an odd sort of pride as their son's face fell devastatingly every time a wand failed to light up and do something when he held it, but twenty odd boxes later and there was a shower of stars and sparks, red and gold. James had almost jumped for joy.

Mahogany. Eleven inches with a magical core of dragon heartstring. It was strong but bendy; the old man called it _pliable_ and told him it would be good for transfiguration. At that his heart nearly sung.

With a spring in his step and a wand carefully wrapped in his hand he allowed his mother to drag him to the robe shop, sending his father off to buy books. He'd grinned and nattered to Madam Malkin, having measurements taken and questions asked while he basked in the warmth of the wand box in his pocket.

Half and hour and seven sets of robes later he was poking strange slugs in the Apothecary while his mum bartered over the price of beetle eyes. A pretty girl walked in with two muggles, all three looking apprehensive and slightly lost. The man pulled out a sheet of parchment and James recognised it immediately by the Hogwarts crest.

"Would you like any help?" he asked, smiling his politest smile at the family, "I'm starting Hogwarts this term too, that's my mum over there." He pointed and the parents muttered their thanks while the girl just watched him shyly through a veil of brilliant red hair.

He bowed his best bow (the one his dad had taught him for dinner parties and meetings with the Minister) and offered his hand to the girl. "I'm James Potter," he said, cheerily.

She started at his hand before shying away and fiddling with the sleeve of her shirt. "I'm Lily Evans," she responded, quietly stepping back, "It was nice meeting you," she almost whispered politely as his mum lead him out of the shop.

He looked round as they crossed the cobbled street, turning to see the girl clutching a unicorn horn, staring at the object in amazement. James was certain he had never seen a more beautiful creature in all his life, and now more than ever he could not wait to get to Hogwarts to meet other people like Lily Evans with her soft voice and bright hair.

That afternoon with a Fortescue ice-cream in hand and a hundred brightly wrapped parcels floating about him he happily followed his parents back to the pub. September the first could not come quick enough.

-

Lily had sat at her desk in her room surrounded with her new magic books for hours on end. By the end of the holiday she had read every book from cover to cover and had even tried a few minor spells with her beautiful new willow wand (Ollivander's had said it would be best with charms…).

Her parents had watched almost sadly as their youngest girl prepared herself to leave, every day growing more excited and nervous. Petunia was increasingly sour around her sister but Mr and Mrs Evans were certain it was just a phase - it would pass in time.

The last day of August came and went and they were soon driving their daughter to Kings Cross Station with instructions to send her walking through a wall between two platforms. The idea seemed ludicrous, but they had little choice in the matter and at quarter to eleven they said their goodbyes.

-

September first and he was bouncing on the balls of his feet, standing on Platform Nine and Three Quarters with a huge grin plastered on his face. He saw a small boy standing on his own near the front of the train and decided he must be a first year too. He finds out later that this boy is Remus Lupin and he is one of the shyest, most brave and loyal boys James is ever likely to meet. For now he just watched and listened to his parents telling him to write and be good and say hello to Minerva and be nice to Peter Pettigrew because he doesn't know many other people.

When Peter arrived they found a carriage together and waved frantically to their parents as the train pulled away. Several minutes passed and they chattered aimlessly about quidditch and food, then suddenly there was a quiet voice at the door and Remus Lupin asked if he could sit with them. Another few hours and they'd established themselves as the best of friends, all three of them looking happier than ever by the time the lady with the food trolley arrives.

They discussed rumours they'd heard about the sorting and all decided they want to be in Gryffindor, and by the time the train drew in to Hogsmeade station they were ready to bring down that legendary Hogwarts sorting troll in a display of bravery that would kick-start a glorious school career in the house of the lion.

The castle was even bigger than expected and the three friends laughed as Severus Snape was pitched into the lake by an angered Black (Blacks, James explained, were the worst sort of Slytherins).

The Entrance Hall was huge and the candles so _bright_ and there were so many people talking and laughing from beyond the great wooden doors.

The sorting hat was revealed and the three boys mentally sighed with relief, for all their big proclamations of bravery and knowledge none of them really believed they'd managed to slay that troll alone.

As he stepped forward to sit on that little wooden stool James hoped he'd follow Remus and Peter into Gryffindor, he hoped he'd get to know that rebel from the house of Black a little better, he hoped he'd make a good impression and drive the teachers mad. (And he silently hoped that that pretty Lily Evans would find him funny and let him sit next to her in transfiguration (the class that Ollivander's said his wand was best for).)

He sat on the stool with all eyes watching and heard the hat shout "GRYFFINDOR!" to a room full of cheers just for him. He slipped into a seat left of Remus and looking around and the laughing faces of Gryffindor House he felt like he had come home. And the feeling was nice.

Lily doubted she had ever been more nervous. It was time for her first magic lesson and she wasn't even sure if she was wearing her robes properly. Her new friend Alice hadn't stopped talking since they woke up in their shared Gryffindor dorm and she was beginning to get a headache.

Their teacher announced herself as Professor McGonagall and promptly changed into a cat. Lily gaped.

The whole lesson she scribbled notes about transfiguration, willing herself to remember every little fact and when the professor announced it was time to do a little bit of practical work she nearly cried. _What if she couldn't do it? _She was the only muggleborn witch in her class (maybe even year, she wasn't sure) and that meant that every single other person in the room had had more experience that her. It also seemed that James Potter had made it his morning's task to make her as nervous and uncomfortable as possible by loudly telling everyone in hearing distance about how many spells he had mastered at home and how his father had taught him this and his uncle had taught him that. Of course to top it all off he kept looking over at her, as if to make sure she was listening and with every word she felt progressively more sick with worry.

As anticipated James Potter was the first person to complete the spell, the pale boy alone at the back of the class, Sirius Black, was second. McGonagall paired them together for the last five minutes of the lesson and Lily resented them more than ever as they were given extra work while her matchstick remained very much wooden and blunt.

The day got progressively worse with James Potter showing off a hex he'd learnt on a Slytherin who called her a name she didn't even understand. Alice seemed to know everyone in the entire school and was constantly introducing more names and faces until they got all jumbled in Lily's head.

When dinner came she was _so _relieved to just sit down and not have to elbow her way through crowds. She had so much homework to do and it seemed so much like this world moved far faster than the world she'd come from.

The weeks following held flying lessons (a class which, again, James Potter excelled in) that added whole new levels to her previous vertigo, there were yet more lessons and homework to go with them and the Slytherins established themselves in her mind as cruel brats, best to be avoided. James Potter managed to shoot her carefully build confidence down with a single sentence every few days and kept trying to talk to her when all she wanted to do was finish her work so she could go and sleep. On the last day of the half term she full-out yelled at him to "shut up and leave her alone" and it was almost worth it for the look of shock on his face.

In that moment, shy Lily Evans, the redheaded first year, gained a reputation as the girl who shot James Potter down.

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**If you've read it, please review it.**


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Hogwarts etc belongs to JKR.**

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****Second Year**

-

"And _why_, Mr Potter, have you not done your homework?"

"Well," the boy grinned, light glinting off his glasses and his teeth, "you see, there was this horrible accident," sincerity practically oozed from his being while Sirius Black elbowed a giggling Peter Pettigrew, "and a little first year's cat got caught in a tree. We," he gestured to Sirius, "went and got our brooms and bought it down for her, but then a stick fell from the tree and knocked the cat unconscious. It was terrible," he added a look of sadness. "We took the cat to Madam Pomfrey and she healed it but it lost its tail and we had to comfort the little girl and help her find her way back to Ravenclaw 'cause she'd never been around the castle at night and she was scared, and _then_ we were going back to Gryffindor and there was this sudden creak and the staircases shifted and we ended up in the North Tower and we were just coming back down when there was a scream, and we followed it but it was only a painting and then we had to get back to the common room and when we did it was far to late to do our homework." He looked at Sirius who nodded with the same wide eyes, "see, we're really sorry, Professor McGonagall, but there was really nothing we could have done about it."

The professor blinked, lips almost twitching into a bemused smile. "Right. I expect you to get it to me by lunchtime, understood?"

"Of course, professor, wouldn't miss it for the world."

- 

It was week five of their second year at Hogwarts and Sirius Black and James Potter were no longer a pair of stubborn, arrogant eleven year olds, wary of each other's surnames, but the school's fastest rising legends. Together with Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew they formed the most infamous group of boys the grace Hogwarts' hallways: the Marauders.

It was only one month into term and they had already managed to charm everything bearing the Slytherin crest magenta, flood the male teachers' washrooms, set a box of nifflers loose in the Great Hall at meal time and bewitch every chandelier in the school to plunge all into darkness at precisely nine minutes after every hour.

Three quarters of the school regarded them as heroes.

The faculty disagreed with this assessment.

The teachers had taken to drawing straws before each Marauder detention (now frighteningly regular events), little Professor Flitwick in particular found the boys very difficult to handle and lessons with them were regarded with great trepidation. One main rising issue was the building feud between the Marauders and Lily Evans.

Well, perhaps feud was not the best way to put it. For her part Lily was subdued and avoided the boys wherever possible, sticking firmly to her own group of friends and staying out of trouble, but James however had apparently never learnt how to take no for an answer. Poor Lily was harassed at every possible moment. His attempts to impress her throughout first year and failed miserably and he had decided to try out something new: shamelessly fighting for her attention.

The teachers would look on in horror as they saw the plan unfolding and predicted the result it would get. They would then stop abruptly and shake all such notions from their head, horrified to find themselves hoping James would do something right _just this time_. Most adults could not help feeling somewhat ashamed to discover they were rooting to James in his constant trial at getting Lily Evans to like him, but the more they thought on it the more sense it made, plus he was such a charismatic little boy.

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**Third Year**

-

It was a week before Valentines Day and she was curled up in a soft red armchair in a dark room lit only by the glow of the fire. She wasn't a big fan of Divination but it certainly had its upsides, right now Alice would be traipsing through the Forbidden Forest with the snow lashing down around her searching for whatever magical creature they were required to care for this lesson. Lily smiled. Up here they even gave you tea.

Admittedly the lesson wasn't exactly gripping and she imagined that in summer months it would be hell on earth in this stuffy little chamber, but right now, in the coldest week Scotland had experienced in quite some time, it was an absolute godsend. Even if she had to share a table with James Potter.

She wasn't quite sure how she managed it but she had every lesson this year the same as him bar one (he had Care for Magical Creatures while she was in Arithmancy). Alice had suggested that perhaps he'd looked at her options before choosing his own, it seemed like the sort of thing he'd do, but Lily doubted it as all four of the Marauders had identical timetables and she couldn't see Sirius Black obliging to match lessons around her.

This was all fine and well in most classes, she sat at the front and he sat at the back so she wasn't even required to look at the back of his scruffy head, but Divination was somewhat different to most. The very first lesson had consisted of their teacher, Professor Magdalene, assessing their auras (a process she'd had to bite her lip to stop herself giggling at) and pairing them with people who'd most compliment their inner glow.

She'd put Lily with Potter.

She'd tried to talk herself out of it but the teacher told her to stop being so cruel (that's right, she, Lily Evans, was told to stop being cruel to JamesPotter). From then on they'd read each other's palms, sat in silence watching their empty crystal ball, glared at their feet while the teacher proclaimed their undying love for one another, read each other's tea leaves and had prophecies spouted about their combined power to save the world. For some reason the woman was convincedthey were soul mates and spent every possible moment attempting to demonstrate the grounding of this theory. Even Potter admitted it was disturbing and they were actually _working together_ to avoid the teacher's attention.

But, all this taken into account, she was still glad of the warn incense filled shrine to the future. For all its magic and wonder the castle had no central heating and the stone walls practically radiated frostbite in late winter.

Somewhere in her peripheral vision she saw Black whisper something to Remus, the smaller boy biting his lip and looking deliberately at the floor in an attempt to quell his laughter. Beside her Potter shifted restlessly.

This lesson they were supposed to be developing the art of cartomancy and he had been shuffling the plain muggle pack of cards for the past fifteen minutes as the professor droned on at the front of the class. With a bored sigh he offered her the deck, spread in his hands, and idly she pulled out a card at random.

Two of hearts.

Another glance found Professor Magdalene rambling at great length about the muggle con-artists you were likely to find, pretending to see the future when all they saw was dishonesty and lack of devotion to the inner eye blah, blah, blah… Rolling his eyes he flicked through the charts in chapter six of 'Unfogging the Future', then with a raised eyebrow he looked from the card to the book and then back to her.

Leaning forward with the amused expression of someone who knew too much, he whispered, "attraction and devotion?"

"What?" she squeaked, somewhat louder than intended.

The class turned as one to look at her. She blushed.

"What is it?" inquired their resident possessor of the inner-eye.

"Nothing," Lily snapped hurriedly, glancing over to Potter's book to read that the two of hearts did most definitely correspond with attraction and devotion.

Beside her Potter laughed and nodded, "Nothing at all."

Sadly the professor didn't believe either of them and stalked forward, pouncing on the card laid face up between them.

"The two of hearts!" she exclaimed dramatically.

A dejected sigh and Potter slipped further down into his seat, "Here we go…" she heard him mutter.

It was almost ten minutes later, saved by the bell, that Lily exited the classroom, certain she would never be able to look Potter or any of his friends in the face ever again.

Blushing madly she winced, some of the things that woman had _said…_

-

James hurled the quaffle through the middle hoop, nearly de-brooming Michael in the process.

"Nice shot," hollered the captain from the other end of the pitch.

James grinned.

He'd been on the team for just over a year now and he absolutely loved it. Sirius had passed the trials earlier that season and was now filling the place of second beater, making quidditch just about _the_ most enjoyable pastime James had.

He idly dodged a bludger and flashed a grin at his best friend. "You'll have to try hard than that."

Sirius's bark of laughter echoed around the pitch, the early morning frost leaving the air crisp and quiet. "Will do," he yelled back.

Another few shots at goal and several drills of various formations later and James had seen the snitch four times. Their seeker was yet to see it once.

He'd spoken to Chris, sixth year beater and team captain, about it so many times but the boy refused to give Adam up. He caught the snitch quicker than the other three sides; there was no reason to kick him off the team just because James could do it quicker still. Each time James huffed that they could just swap roles but Chris would have none of it, James was by far the best chaser they had and the thought of sacrificing that when they already had a perfectly decent seeker didn't appeal to the captain at all.

"Four," he mouthed at the older boy, pointing to himself, then nodding towards Adam, "Zero."

Chris rolled his eyes, "Maybe next year, yeah? Now piss off. You've got a job to do."

James laughed and spun a couple of barrel rolls before chasing after the quaffle again; the captain said that every time.

"Valentine's day next week," he commented to Sirius as they exited the changing rooms half an hour later.

The other boy raised an eyebrow, "And?"

"Well… I was thinking." He paused, raking his hand through his hair. "You know Evans?"

Sirius stopped walking abruptly.

"What?" asked James.

"You're not serious are you?"

"No, you are." Sirius rolled his eyes, James laughed, the joke was so overdone, "And about what? I didn't even finish what I was saying."

They started off toward the castle again, "I've known you long enough to know exactly where you're heading with this, and I promise you, the results will not be pretty."

"I just thought a bunch of flowers or something. Nothing much."

"James, mate, she hates you," said Sirius in his best 'breaking-it-to-him-gently' voice.

"So?"

He looked at James' blank expression and shook his head with a laugh, "Well, if that's you attitude, go for it. S'not like you've got anything to lose."

-

For the Marauders the following week was hectic. Their dorm looked like a bomb had hit it, a pink and white bomb that showered glittery hearts.

"It's not _working,"_ hissed Peter clutching his wand with white knuckles as he attempted to charm the glitter to dance. The pile just bubbled lazily.

"Hey, look at this," laughed Sirius in absolute glee. A small owl fluttered up from the stack of valentine themed ribbons at his feet, made entirely of heart shaped sequins and cooing like a dove.

"That's _brilliant_," exclaimed James, laughing as the bird settled on Remus's shoulder. "D'you think you could manage more?"

"Sure. What, to line them up on the rafters?"

"Yeah, and then when Dumbledore sits down they all swoop over the tables and shower glitter and stuff."

Remus laughed as the owl pecked at his ear, "You're all insane."

"Ah, come on Moony, this is gonna be so much fun!"

They'd been planning their big Valentine's prank for a fortnight now and everything was just about falling into place. It turned out to be just the break they needed from their extensive research into Lycanthropy and Animagus transformations, and Remus in particular was relaxing well in the absence of such topics.

They weren't sure how it happened but this prank, originally intended to demonstrate their absolute abhorrence of the holiday, had morphed into one very big glitter fest. Peter was seemingly the only one aware of this transformation of views, it had happened so naturally the other three continued like it was the most logical train of thought ever, and he had a sneaking suspicion the root of the switch was James's decision to buy Lily Evans some flowers. The four of them had always been funny like that, the tiniest of events throwing them off on a tangent that erupted into magical glitter owls that showered the floor with scented rose petals and confetti hearts as they flew.

Remus laughed, "We just need them to explode like pink fireworks at the end and then we're all set."

Sirius face lit up, "That's such a great idea!"

-

He'd settled on roses.

Red roses.

He'd thought long and hard about it the whole journey through the tunnel under the humpbacked witch and he'd decided that roses were safest. Lilies would be nice but perhaps a little too personal and he didn't want to look like he was committing to anything, because he wasn't. Not at all. He just thought she was pretty and that it would be nice to give her flowers on Valentines Day. It wasn't even big enough to be considered a crush. Just flowers.

But yes. Roses. Nice and pretty and all girls were supposed to like them and they were so perfectly cliché they wouldn't make it look like he'd put a great deal of thought into something as meaningless as flowers. And he wouldn't be offended one bit if she didn't like them. Because it didn't mean anything. Not one bit.

This decided he crept out of Honeydukes shrouded in his invisibility cloak, Sirius half a step behind him.

"You got the list?" Sirius asked when they threw the cloak off in the shelter of a small alley, "I'll go to Zonko's and get everything we need while you… do your shopping."

James grinned nervously. "Yeah. Madam Petals, right?"

"Madam Petals," Sirius confirmed, his lips twisting into an amused expression. "I'll see you back here in five." And with that he'd dashed out into the snow towards the joke shop.

James sighed and headed in the other direction to the small florist near Madam Puddifoots tearooms.

The overwhelmingly strong smell of pollen and greenhouses hit him as he entered the dark little shop. Nervously he stood at the counter cleared his throat.

The woman who appeared out of the backroom smiled all sugary at him. He resisted the urge to cringe and she nattered away to him about the joys of 'young love' and how nice it was that nice young gentlemen like him were willing to make the effort and _just_ roses? Did he not know every single silly little detail about the horticultural, spiritual and mythological significance of these _natural artistic masterpieces_? No? Well then, she would have to tell him as she wrapped the de-thorned stems in this piece of ribbon and then this piece and here's a little bag for it and there you go, put this in the water and they'll last for weeks and for an extra charge she could make them everlasting for him and was he sure? Well, she wouldn't tell his teachers as he was such a nice young man but yes it was probably best he got back to school and oh. You're leaving so soon. That will be one galleon, please. Thank you! Happy Valenti-

James shut the door on his way out.

_Never again_, hissed the little voice in his head.

-

They'd decided that the best way to deliver the monstrous bunch of roses would be by glittery owl at dinner. They were all quite taken with the idea and spent the rest of the evening working out which teachers they could set up. McGonagall would have to send Dumbledore sherbet lemons they concluded, and Slughorn would make an excellent couple with Magdalene.

"This is so much better than those tacky cherubs they had in Hogsmeade last year," said Peter, swishing his wand and watching with owl follow the exact path he drew out.

Behind him Sirius and Remus were huddled around what appeared to be a blueprint of the Great Hall. "Nah," said Sirius, "You want it to come round like this, behind that statue and then down over Hufflepuff," he marked out the line, "See?"

Remus laughed, "I can't believe we're sitting here choreographing flight patterns for Valentine's owls…"

"You guys?" called James from somewhere behind a huge bunch of roses. "What should I write on this card? Everything just sounds sappy and silly."

They put their heads together on it for ten or so minutes, Sirius making awful jokes and Remus suggesting stuff that implied more than James was entirely comfortable with (he didn't want her to think he _liked _her. Not like _that_).

In the end they settled for:

_Happy Valentine's Day._

_From James._

Remus inspected the boys rough scrawl on the little cream and gold scrap of card, "It's not very…" James glared, "Well, it's not very anything at all… But I'm sure it'll do the job," he added quickly at James's look. "They're very nice flowers."

"Yeah," mumbled James, looking uncomfortably at the bundle of romantic clichés. "Maybe I should have stuck with orange lilies," he mumbled.

-

This was turning out to be the _best_ Valentine's Day Alice had _ever_ had. Ever!

Lessons had been insane, the Marauders cracking jokes and charming chalk to pair up various members of staff in little hearts on the blackboards. Slughorn had allowed them to all have a go at making love potions and though he had to confiscate them at the end of the lesson the fumes alone were enough to make most of the class go all starry eyed and smiley.

The Great Hall was buzzing with happy couples and she'd received an anonymous valentine over breakfast (she hardly cared who it was from at the moment, it was the fact that it was addressed to _her_ and it was for _valentines_ that got her so excited). Now it was dinner and the Marauders were looking suspicious in a way that could only mean the rest of the school were in for a hell of a lot of fun.

Dumbledore greeted them, eyed the Gryffindor table and smiled with twinkling eyes, then sat down.

And BANG!

Suddenly there was candyfloss coloured pink smoke drifting up from the flaming torches and owls came sweeping down from the ceiling, swooping and diving in perfect synchronisation – it looked like a dance! One of them landed on Dumbledore's hat and dropped a bag of sweets onto his plate and with a smile he thanked a shocked Professor McGonagall as she stared at the box of chocolates delivered to her. Slughorn's booming laugh mingled with the chattering of children and some of the girls had stood up to try and catch the petals and confetti the owls were trailing after them.

And then one slightly bigger owl, made of deep red and gold ribbons landed _right in front of her_ with the biggest bunch of roses she had ever seen. Alice gasped and grabbed a shocked Lily's arm, "It's for you!"

Hands shaking Lily had lifted up the flowers and turned over the little card.

Alice watched her friends eyes widen, grinning expectantly in wait to find out who the admirer was, but then Lily's jaw stiffened and the grin faltered.

"Lily?" she asked, but her friend was already on her feet, running out of the Great Hall, looking absolutely horrified and blushing so much she looked ready to spontaneously combust.

She'd taken the card with her but further down the table Alice heard Sirius Black mumble, "Shit," and pat James on the back. The pieces clicking together in her mind Alice's eyes widened in amazement that she hadn't spotted it before, James liked Lily. And that was the reason for all his strange behaviour around her, and that behaviour was the very reason Lily didn't like _him_. He really _had_ shot himself in the foot, she thought.

Above them the owls all exploded in an incredible display of pink and silver and gold and red and while everyone else oohed and ahhed the Marauders sat in silence, James looking miserably towards the door.

* * *

**AN: **Behold! Not a single _drop_ of angst – I never would have thought it possible.

_**If you've read it please review it **(and yes, that includes all you meanies who've got me on alert but never so much as utter a word of opinion. Go on, live a little - press that little lavenderish button…)._


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Hogwarts etc belongs to JKR **

**AN:** A few people have asked now about how this story is likely to continue, so here's the current plan: I intend to have a snapshot chapter for each few years up to sixth, not being particularly plot related but just a short story in itself, then for sixth and seventh years there'll be more of a story arc and more chapters. I think. For now. Yeah, places will be a bit hazy, but I have full faith they you, my lovely readers, will be able to handle that.

-

Fourth Year 

-

It had been decided within the Hogwarts staff room that the Marauders were individual personifications of the word 'fiasco'. They broke things, they humiliated people, they took perfectly respectable occasions and transfigured them into disastrous free-for-alls where students whooped in delight and teachers developed bone deep fatigue attempting to restore order. However, for all their adverse effects, they were without a doubt the most popular people in the school.

And this popularity was the thing that amazed Professor McGonagall more than even the shamelessness of their brazen daring. They weren't popular in the usual way of children, where they were 'cool' and attractive but secretly resented by everyone for the arrogance and rudeness they held themselves with. No, the Marauders were actually genuinely _liked_. It astounded her at times, but these four boys were _adored _by their peers, and though they certainly played on that fact, they never seemed to consider themselves above anyone that the Slytherins.

They were certainly unique, she thought, watching James Potter score yet another goal for Gryffindor and the explosion of cheers that followed from three quarters of the school. The times outside the school were changing dramatically, political tensions fraying generations of alliance, and it had began to show over the past few terms even in the Hogwarts student body. Houses were distancing themselves so gradually you might not even notice it, but there was one group that without fail would bring the majority back together, and they were the Marauders. Admittedly, their current antics drove the Slytherins away further, but that was an inevitability with views leaning the way they were, and at times she couldn't be more grateful to Sirius Black and James Potter for the smiles they put on the faces of children worrying over problems so much bigger than they could fully understand.

She clapped gleefully and grinned at the glum faced Professor Slughorn as the Slytherin keeper took another of Black's bludgers to the gut and Potter scored ten more points. It was the last game of the autumn term and she could just imagine the party that would be held in the Gryffindor tower that night.

-

And what a party it was.

Streamers, balloons, Filibuster's fireworks, butterbeer and Honeydukes chocolate. Children giggled and whooped, dancing to some loud concoction of heavy bass and melodious guitar while the two Gryffindor prefects danced on a table with their ties round their heads. Black and Potter were head banging to music that didn't quite fit, sporting a Gryffindor flag each and singing at the top of their lungs while Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew cracked open another crate of butterbeers. Even Lily Evans was laughing happily with a gaggle or girls near the stairs.

Standing unnoticed by the portrait hole Professor McGonagall admitted some regret at having to break it all up.

"Frank Longbottom! Elsa May! Get off that table right this instant and set an example!"

The prefects froze and a seventh year sensibly turned off the music. Gryffindor house stilled and looked warily at their Professor in her tartan dressing gown.

She straightened up, "You all know the rules and as happy as I am that we won, you have not yet got the cup and you all have lessons in the morning. I want to see Potter, Black, Lupin and Pettigrew in my office at lunchtime tomorrow and Mr Longbottom and Miss May will spend tomorrow evening supervising the cleaning up on the common room; I'll ensure you receive no help from the house elves!"

She paused for effect, looking sternly around the room full of appalled faces.

"I expect all of you to be in bed in five minutes and if I hear so much as a peep for the rest of the night there _will_ be detentions."

There was a brief stunned silence followed by horrified mutters and reluctant shuffled towards the stairs.

"And Chris?" she called out to the quidditch captain, he looked up uncertainly, "That was an excellent game, thirty points to Gryffindor for such an brilliant display of teamwork."

And with that she exited, swinging shut the portrait hole on the sounds of scattered laughter and applause.

-

Fifth Year 

-

James' fascination with Lily had developed somewhat over the years, from wanting to befriend her, to wanting to impress her, to ignoring her after the general humiliation of third year Valentine's day and most recently to… well, drooling after her, as Sirius so pleasantly put it.

He'd always known she was pretty, that was indeed his very first impression of her, but it was only recently that he'd realised exactly what this meant in relation to _him_. He wanted her to like him. He wanted her to smile at him. He wanted her to laugh at his jokes and actually listen to what he had to say. He wanted her to look at him like that group of girls in Hufflepuff looked at him. However, it sadly seemed that every step he'd made for the past four and a half years led him very much _away_ from this goal.

He'd tried polite conversation but, "Alright, Evans," got him nothing but an icy glare and a face-full of red hair as she turned on heal and went elsewhere to study/daydream/socialise. He'd tried getting good grades to impress her but only ended up with her devoting herself entirely to her studies to beat him. He'd even tried carefully arranging friends to plant nice comments about him in conversations but all he got was an irate redhead telling him to "ask Alice out, for god's sake! She hasn't shut up about your bloody 'eyes' and 'hair' and 'quidditch' for the past week!"

What, he decided, it all came down to, was his utter inexperience with girls and it occurred to him that he could do with a little bit of help. He thought about it long and hard and somehow came to the conclusion that Sirius would be the best person to ask, turning down various female friends who might have actually had some form of insight. Sirius, he reasoned, may not have actually been in a relationship, but he had certainly snogged a number of girls and was even more popular than James himself in Hufflepuff.

Sirius' first bit of manly advice to Mr James Potter on the dilemma of Lily Evans was: "Well, why don't you ask her to Hogsmeade?"

And thus Phase One began.

-

It was cold on the grounds of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, wintry sunlight fluttering weakly through the flurries of snowfall while the Forbidden Forest lay unusually silent.

Lily Evans huffed uncomfortably from within a bundle of scarfs as she followed Alice through the vindictive elements to the small clearing set aside for Care for Magical Creatures lessons.

Divination had been cancelled due to some festive spirit on the teacher's part and by some strange loop of events Lily had somehow ended up accompanying her friend to the most hateful subject in the magical curriculum. It was cold, wet and by the sound of it they were to be learning about rare arctic dung beetles. Standing watching Professor Kettleburn describing the insects' abilities to break the ammonia produced by polar bears to form a bizarre magical compound was one of those moments that left Lily wondering why she'd even bothered getting out of bed that morning, let alone ended up standing knee deep in snow in a class she didn't even _take_.

"As you'll all remember from last week the activated ammonium ion is vital in the production of crude levitating oil, similar to the type used in the original models of broomsticks, three thousand plus years ago in Egypt. We'll be studying the scarab beetle later in the year so I advise you listen well to this, Mr Black, they're very closely related…"

Lily shuffled uncomfortably and turned to frown at the Mr Black in question. It was no secret that she didn't trust the Marauders, but the looks they'd been exchanging ever since they realised she was in their lesson unexpectedly had been enough to make her want to run straight back to her bed and wait for the inevitable hurricane to pass.

A few minutes later and they were all given a beetle between two to observe. While Alice riffled through her textbook Lily concerned herself with redoing the warming charms on her cloak; it was then that she felt rather than saw the Marauders stirring.

The following two minutes happened very quickly, Black distracting Alice while Potter sidled over to stand in front of Lily. The following evening she would remember only the barest details of what happened next, conveniently forgetting the shy way he toed the ground, the way his hand rested on the back of his neck while his head tilted towards the snow in uncertainty and his face reddened with embarrassment; the way he bit his lip before spitting out the rushed question and the way his eyes shone hopefully as she stood too shocked to answer. The next evening the only thing she'd properly remember was the words he'd used and the fact that the answer had most definitely been a "No!"

"Evans? I was… wondering… will yougotoHogsmeadewithme?"

-

James had never been so embarrassed in his entire life.

She had looked utterly horrified at his question, unable to even spit out a polite answer. He'd said little for the rest of the lesson and skipped Potions altogether, but that evening Sirius convinced him that the only reason she responded in that way was because he'd been so uncertain himself.

"The key to women," he said importantly, "is acting in control."

James had a sneaking suspicion this pearl of wisdom had been lifted from Mr Black senior's extensive guidelines for ruling a pureblood estate in the patriarchal old-blood sector of wizarding society, but he said nothing and decided to go along with it as it was the best lead he had.

"Evans," he said firmly, standing up straight and commanding in a way that he'd seen his dad do when talking with business associates, "Will you come to Hogsmeade with me?"

Her response had been even less favourable than the first time, she actually blanched before turning bright red and muttering something unintelligible, dashing up the stairs to the girls dorms without a backwards glance.

James watched in dejected confusion before turning to Alice in the seat next to the one Lily had just vacated, "I'm guessing that was a no?"

The blonde girl nodded with a small smile and quick apology before following her friend up the stairs.

"Bad luck, mate," came Sirius' voice from behind him, "We'll think of something."

-

And think of something they did. Many things, in fact, to Lily's utmost horror.

At breakfast she received a note repeating the question. And then another at lunch. And then one at dinner, charmed pink with an added "please" at the end.

The Hogsmeade weekend came and went and yet Potter had not let go of the idea. Lily's gratitude that she was no longer in the same Divination class as him reached whole new levels and with the Christmas holidays nearing she had never been so grateful to be leaving Hogwarts. He'd given her flowers, stolen her textbooks and written notes in the front of them, sent owls and even asked her what she wanted for Christmas. Her attempts at avoiding him were given a new urgency when Dumbledore and Flitwick combined forces to decorate the school with mistletoe and it was with a sense of barely contained joy that she boarded the Hogwarts Express on the twentieth of December.

However, one thing she had not counted on was her best friend's deep betrayal of trust and on the twenty-fifth she discovered that Alice had given up Lily's address to Potter and he'd actually gone to the effort of sending her a present. It had taken her two whole days to pluck up the courage to open it and another two days thereafter to convince herself that the carefully chosen book was in fact horrible and he was a thoughtless prat and she hated him. She sent him a harshly worded letter on New Year's Eve and demanded that he leave her alone next year and while there was no reply she felt somewhat satisfied that she'd dealt with the problem effectively.

-

With the coming of the new year and in light of the multitude of disastrous attempts at winning Lily Evan's heart James had given up on Sirius and decided to choose a new 'relationship advisor'. After all, it was a proven fact that the smallest details could count for everything.

The first thing Remus had done was laugh.

The second was to assure James that this recent decision was his most hopeful step yet.

He had then set the task of James telling him why he was so set on getting Lily.

"But you know that!"

"Do I?"

"Yes! You're always complaining about the running commentary I give you!"

"Well if you think you're so sure you can write me a list."

"What?"

James had stared at his friend in mild horror at such a pointless suggestion, seriously considering returning to Sirius for help.

"Then write a list of why _she _should consider _you_."

"I- Moony. This is ridiculous."

The boy raised and eyebrow and picked up his book, "You asked for my help and I'm giving you it."

"_Lists?"_

Remus ignored him and with rain pouring outside and Sirius in detention for another two hours James had only his Divination homework as an alternative.

He picked up his quill.

"Reasons why I, James Potter, like Lily Evans:" 

He underlined it.

Even the title looked pathetic.

-

"'_She comes up with the most elaborate ways of shooting me down without any obvious previous planning_.'"

Remus looked sceptical.

"This is a good thing?"

"Yes!" stated James defensively.

"And are you sure you knowing what '_colour her eyes go when she's ready to throttle you'_ is a plus point?"

"Yes. She's beautiful. That's stated clearly in point one, four, seven and twenty…three?"

"'_Twenty-three. She always wears purple socks on Thursdays_.'" He raised an eyebrow, "James, I'm beginning to doubt your sanity."

"No! That's there because it shows how she has all these little routines, with a certain colour for a certain day and it ties in with how that would balance my reckless, unpredictable streak – that bit's in the second list. The 'why we'd be perfect together' one. The beautiful bit must have been twenty two."

"Right."

"And purple is the Hawks' colour."

"I though it was too good to be true for quidditch not to feature once."

-

"Erm, Evans?"

"Hmm?" she mumbled, James heart soaring when she didn't dodge out of his way in desperation to avoid him. In fact, the first few weeks back at school had contained no propositions from Potter and Lily was feeling brave enough to go back to treating him to the odd disapproving eye-roll, safe in the knowledge that he had finally gotten bored of his new form of torture.

"I've got a question for you."

She looked up slowly from her book, panic mounting. "You're acting strange, Potter. You usually just plough straight in."

James perked up, "And you like this better?"

She watched him warily. "No. I was just commenting."

"So, you like the other me better?"

"What other you?"

"Well, you like me when I just ask you without telling you I'm going to ask you?"

"Erm,.." she looked a little nervous, _please don't let him be doing this again…_

"'Cause I can do either."

From somewhere nearer the fire there was a loud cough. James straightened up.

"Yes, well," he took a deep breath. "I just wanted to know, what's your favourite colour?" he said it in a bit of a rush. Lily looked puzzled (and felt mightily relieved).

"Why?"

"It's a questionnaire I'm filling in. About people. Lots of people. Not just you. See, Alice?" he called over to the little blonde, "What's your favourite colour?"

"Erm, blue," she called back, shaking her head before turning back to the conversation she was having with a sixth year boy.

James pretended to write her answer down.

Lily stared at him.

"This hasn't got anything to do with that thing I heard you talking to Black about earlier, has it?" she asked shrewdly. "Only I have no desire to see Snape's underwear, charmed my favourite colour or not."

James's brow creased. "You heard that?" A pregnant pause and then, "No! Nothing to do with that at all. In fact, we don't even have any plans involving Snape! You must have heard wrong, Snivellus on the brain or something." He arched a suggestive eyebrow.

Lily frowned.

Near the fire there was another cough.

"So, favourite colour, Evans?"

Shaking her head she answered, "Green, if you must know. And no, it's nothing to do with Slytherins or Snape in particular, so I'd appreciate it if you and Black would lay off with the Lily's-got-a-Snape-fetish thing. It's unpleasant."

Silently agreeing very much with that conclusion, James nodded, scribbling _green_ next to point one.

Lily made to stand.

"When's your birthday, Evans?"

-

"Progress?"

"Yup. I've answered all of the first page," grinned James.

Remus looked up, surprised. "She actually answered you?"

Peter snorted, "No, Alice answered him with the promise that he'd find out whether Frank was staying in school for Easter."

"James! That wasn't the point! What happened to making conversation?"

James looked put out.

"I got the answers didn't I?"

Remus huffed, "And I trust you know why I made you do that?"

James blinked. "Not _know_, per sae… I trust it though, you tend to be logical with stuff like this," he added after a brief pause.

Remus sighed, shaking his head and settling back in his chair. "Never mind. I'll come up with something else."

-

Potter was acting very strange. That is to say, more strange than normal. Alice had told Lily immediately of the prospect of finding out whether her sixth year crush was in school for the holidays and pretty soon the conversation had come around to 'how'.

"He just asked you whether I had a pet?"

"Yeah. I've already told you, it was nothing sinister."

"And my family. He wanted to know my sister's name?"

"Yes, and no I don't know why. If you're that worried about it go ask him yourself."

Lily's troubled expression turned to eye Potter, sitting with his friends by the fire; the group of them looking with rapt concentration between some form of Lunar calendar and a Zonko's catalogue.

"They're all completely deranged," she commented.

Alice sniggered beside her, "They're probably planning some sort of potion to combine with Zonko's stuff. You need special moon phases for that sort of thing."

Mild distaste graced the redhead's face. "I hope not. I'm the prefect that'll be left to clear it all up."

Alice made a vague sound of sympathy. "They call him Prongs, you know," she said after a slight pause.

"Hmmm. As stated before, they're deranged."

"But don't you wonder why?"

"No."

"But-"

"And I don't want to think about it either Alice. Mental images I'd rather not go into."

Her friend stared, looked confused, frowned and then gasped with widened eyes, "Ergh! Lily! That's disgusting!"

-

"Evans?"

"Yes, Potter."

"Why don't you like me?"

She looked up from her Arithmancy, irritated by the distraction, "What?"

"Why don't you like me?"

"You mean 'why won't I go out with you'?"

"That too… But also why don't you like me."

"I never said I didn't like you."

"You did and even if you didn't it was implied."

He was holding a piece of parchment and a quill. In fact, the last few times he'd spoken to her he'd been holding a piece of parchment and a quill.

"What are you planning on writing down?" she inquired.

Potter's eyes widened, standing utterly still in the classic deer in headlights stance he then muttered some form of excuse before as good as dashing over to where Remus had been watching. Lily distinctly thought she heard him say "she's onto us," but that could have been simply the voice of her paranoia.

"You're right," noted Alice from her left, "They're definitely up to something."

-

Phase Two was failing miserably.

The idea had originally been to gradually introduce James into Lily's company and then eventually her good books. Sadly the little exercises Remus had planned ended with James bribing other people to tell him stuff about her and succeeded in nothing but making him look ever so slightly stalkerish. The lists he'd made James write on why he even wanted to go out with Lily didn't have quite the 'voyage of self discovery' effect he'd been looking for either. All in all Remus's 'subtle' approach just left James feeling he was getting nowhere and it wasn't a great surprise when his attention waned completely. That weekend James and Sirius put their heads together to deal with something else that had been niggling at their collective patience. That something else was of course Severus Snape.

The Slytherin boy had been on the wrong side of the duo since, ironically, on the first year boat ride to Hogwarts he'd dared to suggest that Sirius (heir to the Black's Ancient and Most Noble clan) would get sorted into Gryffindor for his foul mouth. The young Black had been so angered and offended he rugby tackled the scrawny boy, sending him flying into the dark water and since then their relationship had taken a rather long-term nosedive. He carried his grudge on into his new house, first resenting him for being right and then later for the slight on his beloved new home in Gryffindor.

By the beginning of second year Snape (or Snivellus as he had been dubbed by James in a moment of blazing wittiness) had been firmly established as Marauder Enemy Number One and for the next four years his status jumped erratically from Enemy to Victim and back again as the five boys involved researched new ammunition.

Currently Snape was in Enemy mode and both Sirius and James were anxious he should be restored to Victim status as soon as possible.

From Lily's point of view this was nothing more than shameless bullying grown from their utter stupidity in leaping at every provocation he made, but to them it was much more. It was asserting themselves. It was fighting for the honour of their house and their beliefs. It was upholding moral values and first and foremost it was teaching the snivelling Slytherin worm what it meant to mess with people such as they.

Who exactly they thought they were was one question ever hovering on the tip of Lily's tongue.

She'd grown used to the name calling of Slytherin, whether it was due to her heritage or James Potter's new fascination. She'd learnt to ignore words such as Mudblood, but sadly for her, Mr Potter had not.

He treated it as though they'd utterly violated her, which only made it harder to convince herself their words meant nothing, that the abuse slung around was no more than petty playground insults. (Nothing more, nothing deeper.) Years later she would tell him how much it broke her for him to bring up the awfulness of their words, and his eyes would fill with such guilt and hurt that she'd wish she'd said nothing at all; but for now she simply walked away, never doing anything but paint her disgust at him across her face. He didn't understand, but back then he didn't really try.

Easter passed and along came the exam term, OWLS study stress broken only by the Marauders and their Slytherin baiting. They met less resistance than ever with everyone so wrapped up in books and they grew arrogant in their string of trivial victories. Lily was appalled at what little regard they gave to their studies, and even more so at their continual desire to deny other people of theirs.

She tried so hard to devote herself to her revision, but every time the Marauders passed Snape in the corridor she was morally outraged. She tried ignoring them, but as the threats escalated and the spells used on both sides grew more serious it became difficult to even see where the Gryffindor boys were coming from (what in God's name could the pathetic boy have done to deserve such utter loathing?).

Over the exams there was a brief respite from their antics, either that or she was so absorbed in getting good grades that it all simply passed her by, but it was not until the end of their History of Magic exam, the second last OWL of the year, that things exploded so utterly that she actually stepped in.

Maybe Snape had said something, or maybe the boys were just restless after the exam they apparently thought so easy; whatever the reason wands were drawn and Snape was lying disarmed with bubbles pouring from his mouth.

"Leave him ALONE!"

He couldn't leave it at that, oh no, not Mister James I-am-so-wonderful Potter. He had to talk back, playing for the gathered crowd and apparently for her.

She was not impressed.

"You think you're funny, but you're just an arrogant bullying toe rag, Potter, _leave him alone_."

She'd had thought her tone of voice indicated just how unimpressed she really was, she'd have thought he had at least the barest scrap of intelligence in that bloody horrifically overlarge head, but no. He had to ask _that_ question.

Close to snarling she snapped, "I wouldn't go out with you if it was a choice between you and the giant squid."

And then suddenly Potter's face was bleeding and Snape's underpants were on display for everyone on that side of the lake to see.

People actually _cheered_ the idiot.

"Let him down!"

And he did, into a crumpled heap only to be frozen again by yet another red spark of light.

"LEAVE HIM ALONE!"

She shocked herself to find her own wand pointing at Potter.

He looked alarmed and uttered what could have been a threat were it not for his earnest tone, but he let Snape up all the same.

And then that bloody idiot Slytherin called her _that _name and Potter was at it again, demanding apologies on her behalf. She'd admit it freely that she'd gone perhaps a little overboard, but that didn't mean she hadn't meant it. "…You think it looks cool… hexing anyone who annoys you… your fat head… You make me SICK!"

She'd left after that; heart pounding and face so red she thought she'd catch alight.

"I _hate_ him," she moaned to Alice that evening, hugging her pillow and despairing at the state of mind he'd got her in – there was no way she'd get a decent grade in Transfiguration thanks to _him_.

She felt it should felt some comfort in the way he completely ignored her for the remaining few days of term, and how depressed he seemed at mealtimes. But some small part of her stirred with guilt and that, if anything, just made her more angry.

The end of fifth year couldn't come quick enough for either of them, and all Lily could be thankful for was the fact he wouldn't so much as speak to her, let alone ask her out. She could only hope the following year would continue in the same way.

-

_**If you've read it please review it!**_


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